It was as much as I could manage to drag myself out of the flat after lunch today; the week having been particularly generous with dog shoot sandwiches for my consumption.
Mercifully I emerged into another gorgeous, sunny, mild day; the first port of call being Headington for a recce for next week’s hospital visit with my mother; en-route exchanging greetings with a Lebanese chap I’d met at kickboxing as we passed in opposite directions on our bikes.
The day’s first proper interaction was with another cyclist as we both sat defiantly in front of a dickhead taxi who’d parked obstructing most of the bike box at a set of lights; sharing tales of how we delight in making the lives of such idiots as difficult as possible.
Location of the appropriate hospital department confirmed, along with the predictably dismal parking provision it was off to the park via a quick and unproductive charity shop stop in Headington.. feeling a thankfully faint twinge of nostalgia at being close to where I’d first attended uni twenty-five-odd years ago to the month.
Once at the park I managed a poor showing on the assisted pull up machine (at least it was better than nowt) and was keen to leave as I’d managed to coincide my visit with school kicking out time and the place was infested with kids and exasperated parents.
On to park No.2 for rings and a dangle, stopping to butcher some headroom into some hard, heavy brambles on the tow path and bumping into a chap I’d come to know through last year’s swan rescue drama on the same stretch of canal.
Upon arrival at the park I found the child situation to be even more dire than at the last. After biding my time with some stretches at a safe distance for the bars to become free I seized my opportunity and chucked the rings up; which predictably acted like a magnet for the group of kids who’d just vacated and I ended up with a very inquisitive audience for what little effort I could muster.
Invariably they all wanted a go and I was subsequently put to shame by a group of ten-year-olds executing a range of manoeuvres my chonky, creaking old frame could only dream of. Thankfully parents arrived eventually; affording some welcome oversight and allowing me to make my escape.
Through north Oxford towards town I stopped to examine some kerbside treasure and had a brief chat with an older female cyclist also drawn in by the prospect of finding something worth having; encouraging me to leave with a little Terracotta dish that should do well to house a small house plant.
On to the cafe for a salad; covering it’s £10.95 cost with £15 in cash; and after some exasperated mental machinations in the part of the girl behind the till was reimbursed with £5.50 change... the balance of which was returned via their tips jar as best as possible upon leaving.
Next it was off to boots following an impromptu conversation about bike security with a young chap from Copenhagen as I locked up the Fuji.
Pill packets stuffed into their infuriatingly convoluted depository I was rewarded with a smile from a passing hottie as I left
Finally it was off to the supermarket via the horrendously congested Botley road, at least managing to cut through the traffic pretty convincingly on the bike.
A few essentials scored I smashed it home; running late as always and needing to get back for an appointment.
On the face of it about 25 unremarkable utility miles; however packed with very welcome, life-affirming interactions with great people. This beautiful city has done me well today
Some photos from today, some from aborted reports from the past few days in an effort to distract from the massive self-indulgent block of text above..
or maybe not. Who knows.
Had a laugh when i got through as an Audi came steaming past in the other direction only for it to come past me a few minutes later
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